Radclyffe - Price of Honor

Dusty’s lips parted, a half-smile dancing across her face. “Really?”

Viv nodded.

“I think you might be the first one who’s ever done that.”

Viv caught her breath. Dusty had changed out of her BDUs into a white shirt, dark jeans, and a leather bomber jacket. Droplets of melted snow shone in her windblown hair. Everything about her from her down-home good looks to her trim, solid body was sexy. Was it possible Dusty didn’t know how incredibly good-looking she was? How amazing her complete lack of artifice, especially in the world of façades they inhabited? “I can’t believe that. I bet you’ve had girls dreaming about you since high school.”

Dusty slowly shook her head. “I don’t think so. I wasn’t much for conversation.”

“Girls love the strong silent type.”

“Just girls?”

“Women too,” Viv said, walking closer to the edge.

“I’ve got the silent part down, I think.” Dusty laughed.

“I think maybe you’ve got it all down.”

“Are we flirting?”

Viv’s heart gave a little rush. “I think so. How does it feel?”

Dusty pressed her palms to the white linen tablecloth and gently brushed the wrinkles from it, smoothing it across the surface of the table. Viv imagined those hands smoothing their way down her body and wasn’t sure she could sit through a meal without totally losing what control she had left. She’d already risked more in a day than she had in a year with Kate.

Dusty looked up, her expression completely unguarded. “It feels really nice. I don’t think I’m very good at it, though.”

“You don’t have to try. You don’t have to do anything at all.” Viv couldn’t help herself. She took Dusty’s hand. It was warm and dry. Calluses formed a tiny ridge across her palm. Dusty’s fingers closed around hers and a thrill ran up her arm. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you. Just be you and that will be perfect.”

“I…” Dusty shook her head, staring at Viv’s fingers wrapped around hers. She’d never sat in a restaurant holding a woman’s hand before. She’d had a date or two when she was in college, but she’d never felt comfortable. She knew there were things she was supposed to be doing or saying, but she was never really certain what they were. She hated the feeling of having disappointed and not knowing why. Then, work became all-consuming, so it hadn’t mattered. It mattered now. She traced her thumb over the top of Viv’s hand, caressing each knuckle, marveling at the delicate bones beneath the soft skin. “I think you might decide before dinner’s over there’s not all that much to find out about me.”

“I think you’re wrong,” Viv said quietly, “but let’s not worry about that. Let’s relax together before all the craziness starts and enjoy dinner. You can tell me how you picked Atlas out of all the other pups you could have had.”

Dusty laughed, and the worry slipped away. “You know it’s easy for me to talk about him, right?”

“I noticed that, but I really want to know the answer too.”

“I’ll make a deal with you.”

Viv’s eyebrows rose. “Oh yes? We’re bargaining now, are we?”

Dusty nodded, enjoying the little bit of play. Surprised how easy Viv made everything. “We are.”

“All right then. What are the terms?”

“I’ll answer your question, but then you have to tell me something about you.”

Viv was quiet, and Dusty started to worry she’d made a mistake. Maybe she’d asked too much, too soon.

“All right,” Viv said quietly. “That’s a deal.”

“All right then.” Dusty let out a long breath, relieved. “There were only four pups in Atlas’s litter. Three males and a female. The female was feisty and adventurous, but on the whole, the males are better for this work. They’re a little bigger and heavier and sometimes, but not always, more aggressive. So I only looked at the males.”

“And Atlas was the most outgoing and inquisitive?”

Dusty shook her head. “No. Atlas was the one who hung back a little and studied me. All the other pups climbed around, sniffing and playing, but not him. He assessed.”

Viv imagined Atlas as a tiny puppy, studying Dusty with that tilt of his head, as he’d done with her earlier. “He’s careful.”

“Yes,” Dusty said instantly. “One of the most important things in a bomb dog is focus. They can’t be distracted by other dogs or crowds or stray scents or noises.”

“How did you know he’d be good at the work?”

“I visited him every day. I took him out into different environments. One day we went to the mall, another to the train station. Sudden noises didn’t bother him, people rushing by didn’t bother him, other dogs sniffing around didn’t bother him. He looked around, he was interested. But he didn’t get excited, you know? He’s steady.”

Viv smiled. “Steady. I think I like the sound of that.”

Dusty pointed a finger. “Are you playing with me?”

“I might want to at some point,” Viv teased, “but not right now. I really mean it. The steady part appeals.”

“Why?” Dusty asked.

Viv sipped her wine. Why. It was a simple question, one so rarely asked. People so rarely listened or really wanted to know what lay beneath the surface. What mattered. “I think because when I was younger, my life was anything but steady. Our whole household was…hectic. There were five of us kids, all pretty close in age, and life was often unpredictable.”

“Unpredictable?”

The waitress came by before Viv could answer and they gave her their orders. She was glad for the chance to collect her thoughts and rein in her runaway emotions. She hadn’t expected Dusty to be so perceptive. Her lack of artifice didn’t mask naïveté, but a clear-sighted intuitiveness and sensitivity. She was frighteningly insightful, and Viv ought to feel exposed and vulnerable. She didn’t. Rather, she felt seen, and she liked it.

Once again, she stepped to the edge.

“My father was a long-distance trucker, and he was away from home for weeks—sometimes months—at a time. He showed up in the middle of the night and he’d wake us all up, despite our mother telling him to wait till morning. All of us kids were ecstatic to see him—like Christmas morning every time. He had a personality bigger than life and everything was a celebration. He’d bring presents that I didn’t realize at the time he couldn’t really afford. That always created strife with my mother, who struggled to keep the household going while he was gone. Sometimes he’d be on a long-distance haul through Canada to Alaska, and he wouldn’t be home for months. My mother worked two jobs, but sometimes we’d move while he was gone. I always worried he wouldn’t find us.” She sighed. “He always did, until the time he didn’t come back.”

“What happened?” Dusty asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Viv said. “I was fourteen, and he just didn’t come home again. My mother searched, and later, my older brother and sister did too. He just disappeared. I think he decided to unburden himself of a life that wasn’t fun anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Dusty said.

“That was fifteen years ago,” Viv said. “My mother moved on, found a steady guy. I finally had to give up being angry. I’m pretty much over being hurt too.”

“My parents are farmers,” Dusty said. “My father inherited the land from his father, who inherited it from his father. My mother is the daughter of the town librarian and never went beyond high school. Town population three thousand. There were sixteen kids in my graduating class. I could’ve been a farmer, but I wanted to be a Secret Service agent.”

“However did you decide that?” Viv asked.